


The Aftermath

by femilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femilton/pseuds/femilton
Summary: Prompts:15: In bed with someone else, screaming their name instead of my own29: Before everything changed





	1. The Aftermath (Part 1)

Before.

Hours of excruciating labor done, you watched Alexander coddle your newborn son. Tears in his eyes, he whispered to the child. “I swear that I’ll be around for you, Phillip. You outshine the morning sun.” You smiled. Your husband was always a man of eloquent words.

Your sister patted your hand before giving it a squeeze. “He truly is mesmerized, huh?” You chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man love his family so much.”

Alexander turned back to you, eyes glistening with joyous tears, a huge grin plastered on his face. Your sister stood up, allowing him to walk over and sit by your side. You leaned into him, stroking your baby’s cheek.

“I love you so much, y/n. You truly are my queen.”

“I love you, my king.” Alexander placed a tender kiss to your forehead as you drifted to sleep.

* * *

 

“Alexander, come downstairs. Dinner’s ready.” You peeked into the door of your husband’s office, watching as he scribbled furiously.  _ That damn debt plan again _ , you thought.

“Yeah, just a second, y/n. Let me write this last thing down.”

“You’ve been writing for  _ hours _ , love. It’s Phillip’s birthday, please come eat dinner with your son.” Alexander sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He scribbled one last note before stepping away.

“Fine, but I’ll have to be up all night again.” You frowned.

“You need to take care of yourself, dear.”

“I’m  _ fine _ , y/n,” he snapped. You withdrew, walking stiffly by his side downstairs and into the kitchen.

* * *

 

“Mama! Mama!” Phillip called up the stairs. You had been standing at Alexander’s office door, trying to muster up the courage to knock. You felt as if you hadn’t seen your husband in ages; he had become distant, barely talking to you or your children, sliding into his side of the bed in the wee hours of the morning. And you hadn’t had sex in  _ months _ . As much as you hated to admit it, it was getting to you. You missed your husband.

“Auntie’s here!” You jumped and darted down the stairs. You hadn’t seen your sister in ages, and she wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow. Your heart jumped and you ran into the living room, straight into her arms.

“y/n!” she squealed, holding you tight. “I’ve missed you so much!!!”

“I’ve missed you too!” You smiled ear to ear before launching into another hug. Everything was better when your sister was around.

“And I see that little Phillip has grown like a weed,” she joked, pinching Phillip’s cheek. He crossed his arms, frowning, before you scooped him into a hug. “I’m kidding. He’s a handsome young man like his father. Speaking of which, where is Alexander?”

“Um, he’s up in his office,” you answered, but before you could warn her of his hermit-like tendencies, your sister had already darted up the stairs. You followed after her, holding Phillip to your chest.

“What do you mean, you’re not coming? Alex, I’ve waited months to see you, and you’re not even coming with us on vacation?” Your sister stared at your husband in disbelief. 

Alexander placed his head in his hands. “I have a lot of work to do for this debt plan. If I leave, it’ll never pass, and those damn Virginians will win. Back me up on this, y/n.” Your sister turned to you in shock. You shook your head.

“I can’t believe you, Alexander.” His head jolted up at your words, and you set Phillip down, shooing him off to go play. “You never take time for your family anymore. I’m certain your plan will pass, just take a break! I miss you.”

Alexander sighed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head once more. “y/n, I can’t. That’s final. I’m sorry, I’ll see you in a few months.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you walked out of the room before he could see you cry.

* * *

 

Your toddler had left their favorite toy at home. Your sister insisted that she go back to your house to get it, but you denied her and went yourself, with the hopes that you could talk your lonesome husband into traveling back with you. You opened the front door, scanning the living room for the toy, when you heard a strange noise.

Moans. A woman’s moans.

You carefully walked upstairs, trying to convince yourself that you were hearing things, that Alexander was in his office as usual. But as you passed his open office door, workspace left astray and devoid of any human life, you heard more moans, and soft curses in the voice of the man you had come to love.

Bracing yourself, you reached a shaky hand out to the door to your bedroom, turning the knob with excruciating slowness. And what you saw was as if a sword had been rammed into your chest.

Your husband, on top of another woman, naked.

The woman opened her eyes, formerly squeezed shut with pleasure, and immediately froze seeing you. Your face burned, and you felt a tear slide down your cheek. Alexander turned around in what seemed like slow motion, finally noticing you in the doorway.

You walked away, listening to his pleas. “y/n! y/n, please, listen.” He had wrapped a sheet around his waist, chasing after you as you tried to navigate your house with blurred vision. He grabbed your shoulder. “y/n, please.”

“You were cheating on me?” You finally found the courage to yell, letting your anger lose on your cheating husband. “What the  _ fuck,  _ Alexander. You ignore me for  _ months _ and then you cheat on me as soon as I leave? In our _ own damn bed _ ? What is wrong with you?”

“Y/n, I can explain-”

“No. I’m leaving. Go back to your whore,” you spat, stomping off, refusing to look back as your husband broke.

After.

You had sobbed all the way back to your father’s, where your sister and children were staying, and then some. Your sister held you as you cried into her shirt for hours, stroking your hair, steely gaze fixed with a look that only meant she was plotting revenge. Soon, night fell, and you found yourself tossing and turning in bed.

You stood up, rubbing your swollen eyes, and crossed to the dresser. As soon as you had gotten to your father’s, you had taken out your prized possession: a box with every letter your husband had written you. His words had made you fall for him in the first place, breaking down your walls and softening your heart. You loved him.

Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, you carried the little box outside, sitting next to a glowing lantern in your father’s backyard. You had decided there had been enough tears; you had to take action. You pulled out one letter in Alexander’s familiar scrawl.

“ _ Dear y/n, words cannot express how much you have improved my life. I was so lonely, so miserable before. But you changed everything…”  _ Liar. Liar, liar, liar. You stopped reading and impulsively shoved the letter into the lantern, watching your husband’s words fade away into ash. It felt freeing. You fed the rest of the letters to the flames, feeling your heart rise and break free, feeling the kingdom build itself again.

You no longer loved him. Not since everything had changed.


	2. The Aftermath (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Follow-up to Alex x reader drabble: “Hammy being sad, y/n being sad. OHH WHAT IF they got back together and y/n gets pregnant..only to find that so did the other lady” [includes SMUT]

You never wanted to see Alexander again. Not after he cheated, destroying your marriage and family. You didn’t want to look into those soft brown eyes that once held such love for you and your children, only to remember the way they looked the night that everything changed, lust-blown and glazed with tears as you left.

But you had to go back. It had been a week since your sister left and since you were supposed to return home with your children, but you still stayed at your father’s, avoiding the inevitable. Your father had offered to let you and your children move back in with him, since he was a single, lonely man in a large house; but you needed the rest of your things from your former home.

Finally, one day, you gathered up the courage to do it. You called off from work, and once the kids were off to school, began searching for suitcases in your father’s house. It was around 11 a.m. when you finally stuffed the various suitcases and duffel bags in your trunk, running your hands through your hair anxiously as you crossed to get in your car and go.

“You know, y/n,” your father said, rubbing your shoulder. He had been helping you stuff the bags in your trunk, trying his best to cheer you up. “I can come with you if you want. Help you get your stuff and get out before that jackass tries to justify what he did.”

You smiled a bit, but shook your head. “I’ll be fine, dad. He won’t be home until past dinner anyway. That’s one thing I know for a fact, being his wife all these years.” You twisted the wedding band on your finger nervously. Even though Alexander wouldn’t be home, you weren’t sure if you could handle walking into the room where  _ it _ happened again.

“At least take those rings off. You’ve got to remember that you’re not his anymore.” You nodded, twisting the wedding band and engagement rings off your ring finger, hands shaking. You handed them to your father, who patted your hand reassuringly.

“Atta girl. I’ll make lunch, alright? Your favorite.” You smiled, pulling him into a hug.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetie. Now go get your things.” He moved out of the embrace, and you grabbed your keys out of your purse, trying to will your hands to stop tremoring as you sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key into the ignition. You cranked up the radio as you turned onto the highway, trying to drown out your anxious thoughts with the chords of a happy song.

* * *

 

Your hands shook uncontrollably as you pulled your key out of your purse, trying to insert it into the doorknob. You were standing on your own front step, looking as out of place as ever. Finally, you managed to grab the knob and turn it, faced with the disaster your former home had become. Plates were stacked all over the kitchen. Blankets were thrown across the couch randomly, looking like someone had just woken from a fitful sleep and thrown them off at any angle. Numerous coffee mugs -- all emptied days ago -- sat on the coffee table, souring the air. The TV was left on to some game show channel, subtitles on and sound off. You were angry with Alexander for what he had done, but you didn’t expect him to deteriorate like  _ this _ .

You pulled yourself away from the disaster laid before you and climbed the stairs with shaky legs, clutching an assortment of duffel bags in your arms. You mentally planned out what rooms you needed to visit: Alexander’s office was the first on the left, you could skip that. Phillip’s was second on the left, you needed to get his things…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft swear, followed by quiet sobs. You froze. Alexander was supposed to be at work. Fuck. You went to back down the stairs, but your foot hit a weak spot and the stairs creaked. You swore to yourself; you should have remembered that spot.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Alexander’s voice was the most pitiful you had ever heard it. He stepped out of his office, giving you a good look at his disheveled form. His hair was greasy, the only relief from its cowlick being where he had run his hands through it. His undereye bags were even more exaggerated than before (which you thought was impossible); he likely hadn’t slept in several days. His hands held the distinctive tremor of having drank too much coffee, some of which had spilled on his shirt. And running down his cheeks were tears. You had only seen Alexander cry a few times before, so this was shocking. He was, to put it simply, a mess. Your heart felt as if it had been stabbed.

“Y/n?”

“Alexander.” You attempted to maintain your cool façade, but your voice shook, and you felt your eyes well up with tears. As much as you hated him for what he’d done, you still loved your husband. And for that, you hated yourself.

“Fuck, y/n, I’m so so sorry. I miss you so much, god. I’m dying here without you, without the kids…”

You turned away, not meeting his pitiful gaze. “Don’t you have a whore to sleep with?”

“I ended it. I couldn’t stand looking at her, knowing what sleeping with her did to my marriage, my family, my  _ wife _ .”

“But you decided to sleep with her in the first place.” You fixed him with a steely gaze. He shrank back, becoming smaller than you had ever seen him before.

“I know, y/n. I know. And I regret that more than anything I’ve ever done in my life.” He sniffled, and you realized he was crying again. “I miss you so much, dear. I wish more than anything that I hadn’t done that, that I had taken a break with you. I love you, y/n.” He looked at you hopefully.

“I can’t say that anymore, Alexander.” You stiffened, blinking back more tears threatening to fall.

“Then why are you here?” His voice trembled.

“I’m here to gather my things. The children and I are moving in with my father. That’s final, Alexander.”

He took in a shaky breath. “At least let me help you, then.” You knew he wouldn’t leave you be, so you nodded, ascending the stairs once again. You handed him a duffel bag silently, walking into Phillip’s bedroom and beginning to gather his things. You heard him across the hall in your daughter Angelica’s room, solemnly packing her clothes into the little bag.

The two of you worked silently for a while, until there was only one room left: your bedroom. The room where everything came together and fell apart. You stood facing the bed, trembling. You had spent your first night as a married couple in that bed. Your children had all been conceived in that bed. You saw him with another woman in that bed…

Alexander walked up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “y/n, are you alright?” He rubbed circles into your skin, and you weeped. He gently moved so that he was embracing you, holding you close to his chest. You hated to admit it, but it felt calming; it felt  _ right _ .

You pulled back a bit and looked at him through your tear-spotted lashes, into his warm brown eyes. They were swimming with pain, sympathy, regret. He still loved you, you realized. And you still loved him.

You leaned up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, fingers tangling in his unwashed hair. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, but nothing in your life had felt so right as kissing him in that moment. He melted into you, tongue grazing your teeth, holding you like his life depended on it. You let your hands wander to the bottom of his t-shirt, fingers dancing across his torso as you began to lift it off.

Alexander pulled away slightly, eyes searching yours. “y/n, are you sure?” he whispered. “After everything I’ve done?” You nodded. “Say the words, y/n, please.”

“Yes, Alexander,” you whispered, stroking his cheek. “Damn, I need you, please.” His lips were back on yours in an instant, kissing you with the passion he had been afraid to use before. His hands wandered up your shirt, unclasping your bra and caressing your breasts in just the way he knew you liked it. You pulled his shirt off before removing your own, along with your bra, and Alexander picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed, lips never leaving his. He laid you down gently before lowering himself on top of you, kissing you passionately as he groped your breast. You moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer, grinding your hips slowly against his growing erection.

He eventually removed his mouth from yours, kissing down your chest and to the top of your pants, stopping in some areas to suck light bruises into your skin. He stopped at your jeans, looking up at you silently for approval as he fiddled with the button. You inhaled, surprised. He hadn’t gone down on you in forever; that was more your job in the bedroom. But now, you needed it more than ever. You nodded, and he pulled off your jeans and panties and threw them onto the floor, placing a kiss to your clit before venturing his tongue deep inside you.

You threw your head back in pleasure, lacing your fingers in Alexander’s hair as he pleasured you. Though it had been unbelievably long since he last did this for you, he hadn’t forgotten exactly what turned you on the most. Soon, you were falling into a pit of ecstasy, releasing any concerns you had as you came on his face. You watched as he licked your juices off his mouth, removing his own pants and underwear and climbing back on top of you. You trembled in anticipation as he positioned himself over you, hands already digging into his back, leaving red crescents.

“Are you sure about this, y/n?” he asked, before dipping down to suck a hickey into your neck, rolling a nipple between his fingers when you gasped.

“Please, Alexander. I need this. I need  _ you _ .”

He lifted his face to yours, kissing you deeply as he slid into you slowly. You dug your nails into his back, and one of his hands drifted down to rub slow circles into your clit. Once he had bottomed out, he opened his eyes to stare into yours, waiting for you to adjust. You nodded once you were ready, digging your nails further into his back as he began to move, slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.

“Faster, please,” you whimpered, and Alexander complied. He began thrusting faster, burying his head into your shoulder, nipping at your neck. You moaned, feeling yourself began to clench around him already. It had been far too long, and you were already on the edge once more.

“God, y/n, I’m close.” You felt his hot breath in your ear, and you shivered in pleasure. He pulled back, looking into your eyes as his thrusts became sloppily.

“Come with me, y/n.” You did, moaning his name as you came. Alexander leaned his forehead against yours, his cock twitching and then releasing inside of you. He kissed you, long and slow and sweet, before pulling out, rolling over by your side and pulling you to his chest. It wasn’t long before you both gently drifted off to sleep, whispering “I love you”s into each other’s skin.

* * *

 

You wake the next morning curled into Alexander’s side. After you got over the initial confusion of waking up next to him --  _ oh, we had sex _ \-- you took a moment to admire his sleeping form. He hardly slept, and so this was a rare state to see him in: calm, quiet, breathing softly, even smiling a bit. You ran a hand gently over his cheek, feeling his bumpy stubble beneath your fingertips.

The doorbell rang. You looked over at the clock. 8:03 a.m.  _ Fuck _ . You pulled on your clothes from yesterday, fishing your phone out of your pants pocket to see 5 texts and 3 missed calls from your dad. You quickly typed out a response --  _ Fell asleep, sorry. Kids ok? _ \-- as you rushed down the stairs to see who was at the door. It was probably your father, right?

You skidded to a stop a few yards when the door when you saw  _ her _ there. The woman that had been in bed with Alexander that day. She looked different now -- instead of glowing with sweat and sex, she was a mess, her hair askew and tears running down her face. She looked up, meeting your eyes through the glass of the front door, and you slowly walked over, knowing you couldn’t retreat and pretend you didn’t see her.

You opened the front door as she stared at you wide-eyed, as if you were going to punch her. You could have, honestly, after everything.  _ Even though it was Alexander’s fault, too _ , you reminded yourself.

“What do you want?” you said coarsely, a bit harsher than you intended. The girl slunk back, and that’s when you saw what she had gripped in her trembling hand. A long, white stick, covered somewhat with toilet paper. She shook more, her shoulders heaving, sniffling loudly.

“Is...is Alexander here?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I need to see him about something.” Her eyes, wide as saucers and full of tears, looked into yours. You felt bad for her, almost. But you were still mad.

“What’s in your hand?” you asked. She reddened, moving her hands away.

“N-nothing, it’s for-r him…”

You shook your head. “He got you pregnant, didn’t he?” She nodded, shakily.  _ Jackass _ , you thought.  _ He was always the worst at using condoms _ . “Well, I hate to say this, but you’re not going to get any help from that man. You’re better off leaving and never letting him know about your child. He’ll just hurt you.” With that, you closed the door, walking quickly upstairs to retrieve your bags. That bastard hadn’t changed one bit. You sent one last text to your dad --  _ be home asap _ \--, ignoring his other messages, before grabbing every filled bag you could carry at once and lugging them down to your car.

“y/n, baby, what are you doing?” Alexander rubbed his eyes as you began retrieving the bags from your bedroom, the last ones to go.

“I’m leaving, Alexander. I have a family to take care of.”

He looked hurt. “y/n…”

You turned back around, looking at him angrily. “Your whore just came by, Alexander. She’s pregnant. I’m going back to my father’s house, don’t call me.” You grabbed the last two suitcases, one in each hand, and marched off toward your car, throwing them in your truck as Alexander ran after you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you around so your faces were nearly touching.

“Y/n,” he whispered. “I love you. Please don’t do this.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you shook your head.

“Too little, too late, Alexander.” You wriggled out of his grasp, closing the trunk and crossing to the driver’s door. “Goodbye.”

* * *

 

It had been two weeks since you left Alexander (again), and you had been throwing up constantly. Every morning you woke sick to your stomach, and made a beeline for the bathroom and a clean glass of water. And every morning you tried to ignore what you already knew to be true.

“Y/n.” Your father walked into the room, holding a small rectangular box. You looked up from your breakfast: more pancakes than you had eaten since you were last --- no, since years ago. Your father pulled up a chair, sitting next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You tried to play dumb. “Yes, dad?”

He sighed. “Y/n, I have three daughters. I know what a pregnant woman looks like. And I know that it’s been two weeks since you  _ accidentally _ spent the night at Alexander’s, and you’ve been puking every morning since then. We both know it already, y/n, just take the damn test.”

You looked down, pushing a piece of pancake around your plate. “What if I don’t want to know the results?”

“I know this is tough for you, dear, but you know you have to do it. And you know, y/n,” he lifted your chin gently to look into his eyes, “I’m here for you. Screw Alexander. This baby can spend their time with good ol’ grandpa.”

You smiled, setting down your fork and breathing in deeply. “Alright, I’ll take the test.” Your dad patted you on the shoulder.

“You’re so strong, y/n. Just like your mother, rest her soul.”

You smiled.  _ Just like mom. _

* * *

 

“Y/n!” You smiled, seeing your best friend walk in the door with her toddler.

“Maria! Susan!” You gushed at the two of them. “William is up in his room, let me fetch him.” Maria nodded, and you ran upstairs to retrieve your two-year-old son. He came running excitedly when he heard that his best friend was over to play, and you smiled, sitting down on the couch with Maria as your children played in front of you.

“Only two years old and they’re already best friends, huh?” Maria smiled at you as you poured each of you a wine glass. You sat down, passing her one and taking a sip of your own.

“Well, they have known each other since they were in the womb.” After leaving Alexander, you had reconnected with the woman he had cheated with, Maria, at a mommy-to-be class. (Though you had four children before William, each time was different, and you needed all the help you could get.) It was there that you learned that she had not known Alexander was married, and the two of you became close friends. You gave birth only days apart, and your children had been having weekly playdates ever since.

Maria leaned back, eyes to the sky, a small smile on her face. “You know, y/n, I never thought I’d be happy to be a single mom.” She turned her head to you, smiling. “But I’m so glad I’ve raised Susan on my own. I’m going to teach her how to be independent, how to not rely on a man to do things for her or care for her.”

You nodded, taking another sip of your wine. “I’m happy I’m raising William without my ex-husband, too. At least now, he’ll learn how to use a condom.” You and Maria laughed, the sounds mixing with the play of your children in a wonderful medley of joy.


End file.
